


A Heavy Coil

by Lyssandra_Med



Series: One-Shot [59]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Myths and Legends, Creature Andromeda Black Tonks, Creature Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Creature Narcissa Black Malfoy, F/F, Fluff, Gift Fic, Gorgons (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Lady Monsters, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25716496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyssandra_Med/pseuds/Lyssandra_Med
Summary: Hermione can't remember what happened last night.First, there was alcohol. Then, there was dancing.And at some point she may have made out with a mythical creature?She wasn't exactly sure, but that sounded about right.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Series: One-Shot [59]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429282
Comments: 12
Kudos: 131





	A Heavy Coil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raven_Tonks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Tonks/gifts).



> Gift fic for Raven! She had a lovely idea, and while I couldn't complete it exactly I hope this is close enough!

The sharp and bursting pain of an icepick slamming home into the centre of Hermione’s temple was what finally roused her slumber. The ache crashed from the left side of her skull and off into the right, before receding along the curving slope of the back of her head to finally disappear into a throbbing ache that pulsed in, pulsed out. A hacking cough released the stale air that had settled into her lungs and the crushing scent of cinnamon and alcohol told her all she needed to know about  _ why _ that calamitous pain had taken residence in her brain. 

The only thing  _ close _ to that pain was stiffness in her neck that seemed to be punctuated by the soft throb of a love-bite taken too far, muscles creaking and unwieldy as she attempted to shake herself fully conscious.

The bed she had been laid down upon -  _ if it could really be called a bed and not a grave _ \- wasn’t so much  _ soft  _ as it was scratchy, a worn and tired itch pervading every centimetre of her exposed skin. The light of the room was dim and soft, the frenzied rush of blood pounding against her eardrums drowning everything else out.

Hungover at thirty-one, her body and her mind now paying dearly for what must have been at least a few odd hours of so-called revelry.

But if that was all that’d happened then where the hell had she woken up?

Hermione pulled in a breath of air before rocking slightly to the side and peeking out beneath a heavy lid, the light still soft but more than strong enough to startle her back to mild darkness. A darkness that she exited once it became clear there was nothing more for her to do except soldier on through the blasted headache and figure out where she was.

She could remember a head of dark curls leading her towards a door, twin orbs of silver that had been so light and reflective that they might have been ethereal. The last bit of memory was that of a stinging bite against her neck, and the sudden pooling of arousal that met it.

Then everything else was blank and nonexistent. 

And yet her dwelling wasn’t.

The room was just as sparse and barebones as her bed -  _ rough straw or something similar that had been stuffed within a thin cotton sheet, _ \- clean concrete walls and a barred iron door that stood opposite where she lay. That door threw Hermione from whatever little fantasy of a late night out that had taken residence in her mind, all assurances thrown away by the obvious sign of what it was.

A prison door, shut and seeming locked.

A door with a person behind it, staring at her like she was the only thing in existence.

The woman standing on the opposite side of the iron was beautiful. Hermione took a few seconds of the mysterious stranger’s stare before placing her as the warm body from her memories.

“Well, I’d say good morning to you but seeing as this is your last  _ normal _ morning, I’d say it warrants a great deal more than that, eh? I’ll say you’re welcome, for what it’s worth.” The woman -  _ Trixie?  _ \- said, her low tones a sultry husk against the still air. Warmth rose to Hermione’s cheeks as she stared on, silent and unable to recall human speech. “Oh? Well look at that, venom still active I suppose. It’ll pass eventually, should you do what you promised. Now, would you mind kneeling for me? Appearances must be kept and all that.”

_ ‘What the fuck?’ _ Hermione cocked her head to the side when she realized that those particular words hadn’t been verbalized as she’d intended, eyes widening in surprise. Her jaw worked up and down, tongue and lips feigning all the motions of speech while  _ still  _ nothing passed into the air between them. Obscenities came out in silence, hurried condemnation of her position, anger and valid questions entering into a void from which nothing could escape.

A minute passed.

Two.

Hermione escalated her attempts, screaming and shouting and  _ nothing _ coming out, dismay building in her heart.

And then the mysterious woman had the gall to  _ laugh. _

“Alright, alright. I think that’s more than enough of a show, I already know what your mouth can do.  _ Kneel.” _ Bellatrix -  _ Hermione was sure that was it, even if she couldn’t recall having heard it before _ \- filled that last word with an edge of steel, sharp and nowhere near the rather delightful tones that she had been first greeted with.

Worse still was the sudden reaction. Hermione -  _ against herself, her intentions, every fibre of her very being _ \- knelt down, falling to both knees with all her muscles rigid as she stared into Bellatrix’s face. Her mouth was still useless, her voice still stolen away, all the will that could have moved her from that spot gone in an instant.

Mounting terror burst throughout her veneer of anger, and a ball of slush and ice settled low into her belly.

_ What the Hell was happening? _

\---

Quiet minutes passed by with nothing to do except stare at where Bellatrix had stood.

The woman -  _ name said only infrequently and filled with venomous anger that Hermione wavered between accepting and denying _ \- had left her on the floor where she knelt with nothing around her and no one else to bother her. The cell door -  _ and that was really what it was, a small cell within some deep prison that Drunken Hermione (who Sober Hermione infinitely hated) had somehow been tricked into _ \- opened to a hallway that taunted her with freedom. This was all madness, she knew. All of it, and  _ still _ she couldn’t recall at all how she had arrived here.

There had been the pressing crush of dancers alongside of her, a beautiful woman far away across the floor and wearing what looked to have been a massive snake atop her shoulders. Something in that woman had drawn Hermione forward, or so she thought, and then there were only flashes. 

The snake disappeared, almost as if it had never been there. A toothy smile with too sharp teeth, silver eyes that held mysteries within themselves and nails that had dug deep into Hermione’s thighs while she rode that beautiful face to completion.

Then there was darkness, then waking, then all this.

_ This,  _ which was rapidly becoming tiresome and boring, until the soft  _ click-click-click _ of heels on concrete met Hermione’s ears.

A slim body rounded the corner and Hermione stared on with determined -  _ and renewed, prior imagining and recollection setting her into a more agreeable nature _ \- anger at a woman who looked to be Bellatrix’s twin. Dark hair fell down her shoulders in an auburn tone instead of black, and a pair of gleaming silver eyes met Hermione’s when finally her face was in view. Her stance and the thin grin on her face held a tinge of supple youth that Bellatrix’s lacked, some missing worldliness that told Hermione that  _ this _ woman was younger, even if she didn’t know either of their ages.

“Hello.” the woman greeted her, voice as bland as she could make it. The word was cold and dry, lacking any sympathy and similar enough to Bellatrix’s that for a moment Hermione found herself seeing double. Then a second passed them by and her voice turned softer, “Ah, she stole your voice, hasn’t she? Seems she’s playing by the rules but she should know you can have it back by now. Here, let me help you with that.”

The mysterious woman strode forward into Hermione’s cell, boots placed before Hermione’s knees as she knelt down -  _ and Hermione’s legs slipped closer to a state of numbness after being held at such an odd angle for far too long _ \- and waved her hands before Hermione’s throat. A few hushed words passed her lips in an odd language that sounded to Hermione like far more of a snake’s hiss than anything else and she was certain it wasn’t related to English at the very least. She sat there as the woman continued, sat there as the strange sounds droned on, sat there and wondered just what the hell was happening and just who this woman thought she was. Playing the helper wasn’t going to win Hermione’s affections, she wouldn’t be kept in the middle between someone hurting her and the other reinforcing it with kindness. Besides, what even  _ was _ this? A few words in whatever language was being spoken wasn’t something that would bring her voice back. Hermione knew she needed whatever antidote would take care of this, whatever ingredient or drug that could unstick her vocal cords likely needed to be administered in a shot, not some hand waving  _ “Lunacy, and that’s beside the point that I don’t even know why I’m here or even  _ **_where_ ** _ here is!” _

The harshly ringing sound of a voice let loose to scold and maim with the power of a brand rolled back into Hermione’s ears, leaving her even more confused when the woman began to laugh. 

“Ah, you really are an odd one, aren’t you? I suppose Bella decided to go the traditional way with you, smart if you ask me but I won’t say I enjoy it. She never was the rational sibling.” The woman stared hard at Hermione with no small amount of humour, “Well, I’ve given you your voice back. I’ll ask you to keep your tone light, if you would. I’d hate to have to steal it away again. Now! Introductions are in order, don’t you think? I’m Andromeda, younger sister to Bellatrix. Who might you be?”

Hermione stared and wondered at just what sort of fucked up rabbit hole she had fallen into.

\---

The antechamber that Andromeda led her to was beautiful from top to bottom. Across the arched entranceway was a massive and twisting staircase that had been built up from metal and spiralling wood, its height meeting a second floor that Hermione couldn’t see up to and surrounded by carved handrails in the shape of hungry serpents. The floor between here where she stood and there where it rose up was all marble, thick blocks inset with gold or another sparkling metal, the effect of white on yellow making the odd space seem to be some oddly patterned checkerboard.

Off towards her right was a simple wall that had been situated with multiple framed portraits -  _ all paintings, no photographs among them _ \- of three women, two of whom bore an odd resemblance to Bellatrix and Andromeda, while another woman sat at their side with a far different look. Their hairstyles were all different and the manner of dress seemed to indicate a different century, but all were beautiful and regal and Hermione found herself hard-pressed to turn her eyes away.

The wall opposite to the portraits was bare by comparison, a simple wooden door inset in the middle and nothing else for decoration. Hermione turned away and faced forward, far more intent on viewing what lay ahead of her. A single chair sat back against the wall in colours of gold and black, its massive bulk and gleaming metal enticing to Hermione’s eyes.

Like a moth to a flame she stared at that chair -  _ or throne, for that was what it resembled most _ \- and the inhabitant within, her burgeoning curiosity unable to be restrained beneath a thin layer of fear. Fear would not win out and with a little courage bolstering her up, Hermione continued looking on. 

The edges of that chair were lit in burnt umber and soft orange, the burning chandelier high above them reflecting millions of little rays of light from a myriad of crystal pieces that highlighted every angle and sharp edge. There was a pattern etched into the rose gold of the arms and legs that formed the shape of flowers and serpents tangling with one another, and where the woman atop it sat there was a simple black cushion and nothing more.

Bellatrix sat there, looked back at Hermione, and for a second she felt that fear win out. The woman  _ was _ Bellatrix -  _ unless she had yet another sibling that looked the same as her _ \- and it seemed she had redressed from the last time that she had seen her. Now she wore a simple black dress, thin and sheer and clearly naked underneath of it. She leaned back into the chair with all the grace of a predator, one elbow on the arm of the chair and a fist propping up her chin. Twin orbs of delicate silver watched as Hermione approached, her face giving nothing away and the madness of the day continuing even further when Hermione finally focused upon Bellatrix’s hair.

She felt her eyes widen to the point of pain, a strained  _ “What,”  _ exiting her mouth and falling apart in the space between them.

Snakes. Twisting snakes, long and sinuous. Bellatrix’s hair was made of  _ snakes. _

“How-”

“Oh Gods,  _ Andi.” _ Bellatrix tutted, rolling her eyes and leaning forward as her facade of an orderly ruler or some mythical monster was shattered in her tired slouch, “Andi you  _ know _ you aren’t allowed to remove all the enchantments that I place on them. You  _ know _ this! She has to accept it, that’s the whole point!”

Hermione remained stock still as the woman at her back tensed and flexed the hand she held atop Hermione’s shoulder, a low and rumbling chuckle filling the air as she replied, “Oh Bella, you know I can’t resist stepping in. Besides, she’s fine. She can speak for this, and you know that. And you  _ did _ leave me with her, she’s too cute of a temptation to ignore.”

Hermione felt her knees waver when Andromeda removed her hand, the older woman walking around her left side and off towards where Bellatrix sat quietly. There was a single second where Hermione thought of escape, sure that no one could catch her if she bolted right this second, just turned around and sprinted off to who knew where so long as it was away from this place. But something held her, some half-formed memory telling her to stay instead of go, and then the moment had passed.

The two women conversed at the throne and Hermione remained where she was. A second passed and then she settled on observing the oddity that was Bellatrix’s hair, a next of curling vipers in black and gold twirling and intertwining atop her head. There were some that were longer than others, some short and some active, while still there were more that simply hung there lazily as she moved and twisted her head. They all had eyes, all had flickering tongues, and the closer that Hermione stepped -  _ almost without notice, one foot before the other until finally she could catch a clear enough view _ \- the easier it was to see the long fangs within their maws.

Madness. Madness echoed in those silver eyes, madness disturbed only by the soft echoes of feet on marble, emanating from somewhere far behind Hermione. 

She stood there and locked up, silent as another woman came from behind and rested a hand atop her shoulder for but a second before heading up to meet Bellatrix and Andromeda. The woman -  _ again beautiful, and then Hermione wondered just what it was with madness and women who could make her heart race into unknown speeds _ \- winked at her once and revealed a smile that was punctuated by a single fang.

“Hello again my dearest sister, who is it you’ve caught this time? Someone for the Harvest? Or are we having a Sacrifice early? Oh, did Andi find some new toy to suck dry?” The woman rounded on her -  _ evidently, even if Hermione couldn’t exactly see the resemblance _ \- sisters and placed a chaste kiss upon each cheek.

She was just as beautiful as the others, just as dazzling to look upon -  _ despite the lack of snakes for hair _ \- and beneath the half-light of the chandelier she looked both mysterious and alluring. Golden hair fell down upon her shoulders in a wave so straight that Hermione almost mistook it for a veil, her twin eyes just as cold and ethereal as her sisters but sparkling in her own way. She held herself up with grace and poise that Bellatrix hadn’t had, nor Andromeda, and fell to rest beside the throne on the side that Andromeda had not taken.

Andromeda smiled and looked down at the ground for a moment before lifting her head to stare at Hermione, “Now Cissa, she’s a guest. It seems that dear Bellatrix has been struck by Cupid’s arrow.” A twisting smile was sent Hermione’s way, one that softened slightly as Andromeda turned to look down at her sister.

Bellatrix remained silent for a moment before clearing her throat and looking through where Hermione stood, the twisting snakes -  _ all of them, in some strange unison suddenly seeming to be a part of the whole more than individual pieces _ \- joining her as she did so.

The woman had to have dosed Hermione, that was all that she could think to rationalize this situation. There was no way that this was real, no way this could actually be happening. Surely it was just a bad trip that had gone too far, and soon enough Harry or Ron would shake her from her stupor and set her off to the loo for a shower and some cold water, or perhaps Ginerva would wander in and ask why she was staring at nothing at all-

_ “Kneel.” _

Hermione’s muscles obeyed the order without question, her knees colliding painfully with the ground and a wincing gasp of air shocked from her throat at the feeling of bruises yet to form. Her breath was becoming laboured as she knelt there, haggard and torn as she looked on at what she knew with all her senses to be  _ real _ even if her mind insisted it all was false. She hadn’t even  _ done _ psychedelics in over a decade, this  _ had _ to be real.

“Will you accept, as you already have?” Bellatrix stood, her question loud and powerful. Hermione felt an answer welling up, a budding truth that was stopped only by her inability to understand the reason.

Bellatrix’s features turned quizzical, worried and sharp, “I asked you a question. Will you accept?”

A second passed them both and Hermione opened her mouth, teased the air with her tongue and  _ still _ she could not answer even if her mind had already made the decision for her. 

Bellatrix stood there, face lapsing towards something blank as a split tongue breached the air and scented at the room.

_ ‘So that was what was between my legs last night,’ _ Hermione thought, darkness falling all around her as she did so.

\---

When Hermione finally came to -  _ again _ \- it was to the sound of fussing voices and a subtle pressure all over her body that felt far more like a comforting weighted blanket wrapped up all around her than anything else. There wasn’t the same sort of pressure in her head, and no pain met her elsewhere on her body. She wasn’t in pain, and she didn’t exactly feel unwell. Instead, she felt content, or at least something very close to it. She  _ was _ confused though, and somewhat frightened at how she had passed out, and so kept her eyes shut as she listened for those around her.

“Look what you did!” A voice spoke up from Hermione’s side, acrid and biting and close enough to what Hermione remembered for her to label it as Andromeda. “Look, just give her back her memories Bella. She reacted badly to the venom, it wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Be done with it, and ask her. If she says no then she won’t remember, and you can go on looking for someone else.”

“I don’t  _ want _ anyone else!” Bellatrix’s clear voice rang out in anger, the tone gruff and filled with hurt, a slight  _ hiss _ to the sound as if it had been stated by a viper. “She said yes, this is what she agreed to. Maybe not all the memory loss but who was I to know that’d happen? Just let me finish this, alright?”

“Bellatrix how many times have we gone over this?” The third voice -  _ Cissa? _ \- was pleading almost, light and airy but no less determined than Bellatrix. “You’ve done this how many times over the centuries? At least what, a hundred? More? Come on, this needs to end.”

A moment passed before Andromeda spoke, her voice as calm and cold as ice, “If Bella says that she’s agreed to it then fine, it’s Bella’s mess to clean up. It’s not like she’ll remember any of this in a hundred years or so, and the girl will forget it all if she doesn’t accept. I might not agree with it but Euryale wouldn’t have allowed herself to be seen if she wasn’t supposed to at least try.”

“Euryale’s blessing was unexpected, sure.” Bellatrix’s reply was curious and warm, “But Stheno would have blessed her as well.”

A voice that clearly belonged to Andromeda tutted, “Oh come on big sister. Don’t drag mother into this. It’s bad enough that Auntie fucked off to who knows where with that Perseus boy, I don’t want to hear about mother’s blessings.”

“Medusa would have blessed her as well, if that makes you feel any bit better.”

“Medusa also chose a witty young man who had been sent there to kill her, so no, it doesn’t. Now, would you kindly finish this? I have a life I’d like to get back to, thank you very much.”

Euryale? Stheno?  _ Medusa? _ Hermione baulked at the assumption presented to her, her eyes opening up and mouth framed into a perfect  _ ‘O’ _ as she stared at the retreating forms of Narcissa and Andromeda, and the suddenly quite surprised face of Bellatrix.

“What-”

Hermione broke in and interrupted her with a rush of words, “What’s happening? Where am I and why are you all prattling on about  _ myths?!”  _ Hermione squirmed, contracted and released her muscles in a bid to escape whatever held her -  _ and since when had she been standing up? _ \- tightly-

Coils.

She was wrapped up in  _ coils. _

Lengths of sinewy muscles that lay hidden beneath a patterning of dry scales painted with black and gold, the design forming skulls and diamonds on the outside while the portions actually touching her were made from massive plates of white. Hermione’s eyes following the twists around and around until they came upon Bellatrix standing -  _ on haunches that were not legs but instead hips that melded with the massive body of a serpent, looping around Hermione again and again like she was some pitiful creature about to be crushed _ \- quietly with a modicum of fear in her silver -  _ and slitted _ \- eyes.

“Calm down! Here, here, I wasn’t aware you’d lose all your memories like that, no one else ever has. Then again, no one else has ever made it this far,” Bellatrix rushed out her words as she waved her hand in front of Hermione’s face. An avalanche of hisses fell down upon Hermione’s ears as she worked and moved in a manner similar to how Andromeda had restored her voice, Hermione left to stare at her with bewilderment and confusion.

A flash of brilliant light illuminated Hermione’s mind, a pressure exerted against the interior of her skull as something faded, something grew, a pulse that brought with it a flood of missing memories.

_ She remembered Bellatrix dancing with her and pressing so close that Hermione had trouble telling where she began and the other ended. _

_ She remembered Bellatrix taking her back towards the far wall of the dance floor, sharp teeth biting at her neck and pressing sweet words into her ears. _

_ She remembered Bellatrix holding tightly to her hand as they exited the club and took a short walk back to a mysterious alley. Remembered a door appearing suddenly, the tipsy haze of alcohol shielding her from shock and the rush of being pulled through it by an all too eager Bellatrix. She remembered a massive bedroom, walls of black and white and something that smelled like spices, like cinnamon and heat. _

_ She remembered Bellatrix pushing her down onto the bed and whispering away Hermione’s preconceived notion of reality. Remembered whispers of myths and truths that Hermione had never once expected to exist -  _ **_but once found out could not be forgotten or ignored, delighted to now understand them_ ** _ \- but now found quite alluring. _

_ She remembered Bellatrix stripping naked, her hair shedding the mirage of humanity and tumbling down into a cascade of snakes that had sought out Hermione’s reaching hand, her face, their little snouts pressed to her cheek in imitation of the clumsy kisses that she herself had shared with Bellatrix not an hour prior. _

_ She remembered twin eyes of silver and a glint to them that said  _ **_danger_ ** _ even as they brought a waterfall to the slit between her legs. Legs that had seemed so very much like Bellatrix’s until that facade was torn down as well, the massive length of the viper revealed instead. _

_ Hermione remembered riding that face, recalled the countless little nips those snakes gave her thighs and hips as Bellatrix dug a forked tongue deep into her pounding core. She remembered the sweet delight of switching their position, the ambrosia pouring from Bellatrix as she licked and sucked at a beautiful anatomy hidden behind a veil of scales. _

_ Hermione could remember the vow she swore, to be allowed to worship at this altar forever and a day, how quickly she had chosen to escape from a dead-end job, a life with a suitor she hated and no one to go home to upon a return to England. _

_ Hermione remembered saying  _ **_‘Yes,’_ ** _ when Bellatrix asked if she would stay,  _ **_‘Yes,’_ ** _ when she asked if they could try for something more than a one night stand, informed her of the parts to this that were old and archaic but needed to ensure that she could live among her and the Sisters. _

Hermione turned remembrance into reality.

“Yes.”


End file.
